The War Against Self
by Hufflepuff Ninja
Summary: One day, Flippy is met with the disappearance of his friends and an encounter with a mysterious feline who claims to be able to eliminate his darker side once and for all. It is risky and unconventional. Will it work? Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Flippy's been running around in my brain lately, and the only way to get him out is to write some fanfiction, so here it is. It's set after the Double Whammy episodes, but his evil side was never really eliminated. It just disappeared for a while and came back worse than ever. I do not own Happy Tree Friends._

Ring…ring…ring…

The persistent noise of the alarm clock pierced like a knife into the cushioned realm of Flippy's dream. He groaned and pounded the snooze button, but the bright summer sun drove him out of bed. He had lost the daily battle against conciousness, and now it was time for the war. He stumbled groggily into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. The water was always cold, never warm, even for his showers. Warm water reminded him too much of blood, and things like that never ended well.. Flippy caught a glimpse in the mirror of his savage half in his dark jade eyes that so closely matched his fur when it wasn't matted with blood. Sweet, crimson, warm, delicious…he shook his head to stave off the bloodlust that threatened to overcome him. He opened the medicine cabinet, careful to avoid the eyes of his own reflection, and took a pawful of pills. He hesitated, then took another. He walked out the door and began his ritual stroll to the coffee shop for his morning cup of (cold) coffee and his bagel. When he got there, however, the lights were off and the door locked. He peered in and tapped on the glass.

"Hello?" he called. Receiving no answer, he shrugged. He stepped away from the door and was surprised to feel a paper envelope under his paw. His evil half's attention was peaked, and it mentally uncoiled like an awakening viper

"_Back off,_" Flippy mentally hissed at it, "_Since when does mail have anything to do with that?"_ his evil half retreated, surprised at Flippy's assertiveness.

"_Well, well, aren't we touchy today?" _It whispered in its deep, snakelike voice. Flippy ignored him and opened the letter. He read it with increasing confusion.

"Hi Flippy,

As you may have noticed, the coffee shop is closed. Don't come looking for us, we've all left, and I can't tell you where to. I can't tell you much, just that this is for your own good. Wait at the purple-splattered bench. Someone will explain it to you there. Destroy this note any way you can, but BE CAREFUL!

Signed, Your friends

PS: Buck up, soldier, this'll all turn out fine, we promise"

Flippy frowned, studying the note and recognizing Flaky's handwriting. He crumpled up the note and swallowed it.

"_LAME!" _His evil half jeered, "_Couldn't you have at least lit it on fire?" _Flippy sneered.

"_Exactly what part of 'Be Careful' eludes you?" _he snapped back mentally

"_All two words, professor," _It replied mockingly. Flippy gave a little grunt of fustration, turning back and walking to the nearby park. He sat on a green bench with a splatter of bright purple paint that was left over from an incident involving Lumpy, thumbtacks, and , unfortunately, Evil Flippy.

"_Good times," _it muttered. Flippy ignored it and waited. Soon, a voice penetrated his boredom.

"Lieutenant Flippy," a cool female voice said from in front of him. Flippy was surprised. Nobody had addressed him by his military rank since he had come to town. He looked up. There was an attractive tabby she-cat with golden eyes standing in front of him.. She wore camoflage clothes and her posture screamed, "Military"

"_Hubba hubba," _said Evil Flippy.

"_Shut up!" _Flippy replied mentally.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Lieutenant. I am General Artemis," The cat said. Flippy saluted her, and Artemis returned it. She sat down next to him on the bench."I have the solution to your problem," she said bluntly. Flippy couldn't believe his ears.

"What did you say, sir? I-I mean ma'am!" he blurted out. Artemis smiled.

"I know how to keep you from losing control and going on rampages," she explained.

"With all due respect, ma'am, so does every therapist in the phone book. None of them have even come close to eliminating that monster," he said quietly.

"_Oh, Flippy, flattery will get you nowhere," _Evil Flippy teased.

"No common _therapist,"_Artemis spat the last word like a curse, "would ever even dream of going to the lengths I will to eliminate it." Flippy's curiosity kicked into overdrive.

"What lengths? Whatever it is, I'll do it! I'd do anything to get rid of him!"

Artemis leaned toward him, golden eyes locking with obsidian, holding Flippy motionless.

"Tell me. Have you ever seen a person's personality be completely and utterly destroyed, so that they are no more than soulless zombies? So that they don't react? Not to anything?" Flippy nodded. He had seen it exactly once, and that was one too many times. All things considered, he was almost lucky to be diagnosed with the most severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in psyciatric history. "We plan to do this to your…shall we say, more troublesome half by placing you in an environment in which it shall remain in a state of constant simulation, then systematically destroy it, while the real you remains safely in the subconscious. There will be, of course, physical damage, but nothing irreversible," Artemis explained, her eyes never leaving his.

"_Damn, I thought you were crazy, but this is one psyco bitch. Dibs." _ Evil Flippy hissed in Flippy's mind.

"SHUT _UP!_ YOU _BASTARD!"_ Flippy shouted, realizing too late he had said it out loud. He blushed. "S-sorry, i-it was the-," he cleared his throught. "I'll do it." Artemis took his paw and led him over to a huge, eighteen-wheel truck, rolling up the back door. Flippy climbed in, glancing nervously around the bare metal interior of the truck. The door closed with a metallic bang, plunging the truck into complete darkness. Flippy hyperventilated as he felt an all-too-familiar chill up his spine. The killer inside him was emerging. The truck lurched forward. Flippy's war against himself had begun again._  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Okay, so I found out I got Flippy's rank wrong in the last chapter. He's supposed to be a sergeant, not a lieutenant. Oops. So, anyway, in this next chapter, we're going to get into a little supernatural/fantasy thing…I think. Are vampires fantasy or supernatural? Whatever.**

Flippy regained his senses while riding in the back of the truck. He sat there on the cold metal floor in near-complete darkness, listening to the sounds of traffic outside. The journey could have taken minutes, hours, even days. Flippy didn't know or care. He was too busy wrapping his mind around the fact that soon, if everything went as planned, the side of him that had caused him endless pain with its insatiable taste for blood for the past ten years would be gone. He remembered how he had entered the war, an eager eighteen-year-old kid, filled with enthusiasm, if not a bit nervous. Then, he thought, a short year later, he had been turned into…something else entirely, a lunatic, a murderous psyco, ancient already at nineteen, the blood of enemies and innocents alike staining his paws. Now, he thought, now it would all disappear…no. No, it wouldn't. It wasn't anywhere near that simple. With a rumbling bang, the back door of the hatch rolled open. Flippy skittered back as a hot, humid gust of air ruffled his pale green fur. It smelled of death…of gunpowder…of _blood._ The screeching roar of airplanes, the relentless thrum-hum of helicopters, the rat-ratta-rat of automatic weapons tore at Flippy's ears. He began twitching, writhing spasmodically, a prickling, burning sensation shot up his spine. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed by a vice. With a deep, shuddering breath, he shot out of the van like a bullet, landing on the spongy ferns that littered the ground. A red fog descended over his vision, his yellow-green eyes darting, rolling around, searching for anything that moved. His lips twitched over a row of jagged, formidable fangs. One thought pounded his mind, slowly, at first, like drums, speeding up to the penetrating barrage of a jackhammer pace.

'_Killkillkillkillkillkill…"_

He wheeled around, snarling, having decided that his first kill would be the poor sap that had driven him here. To his surprise, there was no truck behind him, only a wall of vines and foliage. Enraged, he tore at the vegetation with his claws until he hit something hard. Steel. Concrete. He looked over his shoulder. It appeared that he was in some kind of jungle, but… He walked over to the nearest tree, an ancient, twisted-looking thing with vines and algae of every sort clinging to its branches. Evil Flippy scraped the trunk with his claws. Hard plastic. A flash of color caught his eye. Evil Flippy pulled himself onto the lowest branch in one swift motion and yanked the soft fruit off the branch. He bit into it, then spat it out in disgust. It was made of wax. He growled in frustration. How was he supposed to survive in here, where nothing, not even the moonlight shining through the leafy canopy was real? There was a flicker of movement below him. All frustration forgotten, he turned toward the source, a twisted smile on his face. There, sleeping upside-down on the branch almost directly beneath him, was the strangest creature he had ever seen. It's face was doglike, but with huge, erect ears and a fleshy, leaf shaped nose. It had short, stubby legs ending in taloned feet and a tiny stub of a tail, but its arms were long and slender, with ridiculously long fingers, a thin membrane of skin stretched between them. It's sleek, slender body was covered in thick black fur. The beast yawned, revealing impressively sharp, white fangs. One bright crimson eye flickered open sleepily. Evil Flippy had never been so repulsed or so fascinated with a single creature in his entire life. It was almost a pity it would die soon. He shoved his trusty bowie knife, it's edge glittering coldly in the artificial moonlight, in the creature's face, snickering evilly.

"Well, who's this pretty little thing?" he sneered. The creature had both eyes open now, and looked at him with something resembling scornful pity.

"Your worst nightmare," it replied in a deep, but unmistakably female voice. Evil laughed, pressing the blade against the creature's neck just hard enough to dent the fur.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," With one powerful swipe, he slit the creature's throught, but he immediately sensed something amiss. The flesh was harder than normal to cut. Hesitantly, he tested the edge of the blade with the tip of his tongue and flinched. It was as sharp as ever. He glanced down. Sure enough, there was the wound, a clean cut across the neck that had severed several important veins…but it wasn't bleeding, not a drop. Evil watched in stunned silence as the veins were drawn together, like magnets, and repaired themselves seamlessly, and the flesh knit together. The unnatural beast was grinning from ear to gigantic ear, snickering silently.

"Silly bear. You don't know who I am, do you?" She swiveled around, landing right-side up on the branch. Evil watched, speechless, as the ears and fingers shrunk, the skin membrane disappeared, muzzle and tail lengthened. Within moments, he found himself staring down the muzzle of a long, lean, shaggy black wolf and into the same evil crimson eyes that had been on the winged creature.

"I'm the angel of death, Flippy," she said, snarling, revealing the most impressive set of fangs Flippy, evil or not, had seen on anything short of a saber-toothed cat. Evil brandished his knife in front of the creature's snout, his icy glare concealing his terror. The wolf reached out a huge, black paw, and with one careless squeeze, rendered the knife harmless. Evil gave a strangled yell and scooted backward, his head colliding with the tree's trunk painfully. The wolf grabbed both of Evil's wrists and pinned them to the trunk, holding them there with unnatural strength. All of Evil's frantic struggling seemed to have no more effect than a fly trying to escape a bottle. The wolf's muzzle came forward, the cold, clammy nose brushing Evil's neck, making him shudder. A sudden flash of agony shot up Evil Flippy's neck. He looked down, and saw that the canine's jaws were clamped on his throught. The wolf 's paws kneaded the trunk like a nursing kitten, her eyes half-closed in contentment. Flippy began to feel weak from blood loss, but a quick glance at his jacket confirmed that none of it was being spilt. It all must have been going into this…this…thing. The last thing Evil Flippy experienced was the wolf-creature saying, "Welcome to Hell," and the short fall of his exhausted body being shoved off the branch.

**Done with Chapter two! So, how did I do? Positive and negative feedback alike is very much loved. Flames will be laughed at and eaten by Evil Flippy.**


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